


The City of Candles

by writing_with_tea



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Badass Women, Bisexuality, F/F, Feminism, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Phoebus kinda sucks, ambiguous time period
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_with_tea/pseuds/writing_with_tea
Summary: When Maurice actually does make it to the fair, the prize money allows him and Belle to finally move out of their provincial town and go to Paris. There, Belle runs into Esmeralda, and they quickly bond over their shared interests and struggles with men. As the two defend Quasimodo, who becomes their new friend, and fight against Frollo, they begin to discover the feelings they share.





	The City of Candles

Maurice scrunched up his face at the fork in the road in front of him. Sure, to the left, the path looked sunnier, and he knew that would eventually take him to the fair. However, a day’s journey was a long time, and the path to the right, though darker and rougher, looked like a shortcut. He distinctively remembered that friend of Gaston’s, LeFou, mentioning a quicker way to get to the fair. Could this be it?  


His horse seemed to have a different track of mind. Phillipe took one look at the path to the right, and veered away. Maurice pulled at the reins, wanting to go down the uncharted road almost as an act of defiance at that point.  


Then he stopped.  


He looked a little more closely at the path and where it seemed to go. It gave the impression that night had already fallen, even at midday. Howling sounded in the distance, and the crookedness of the trees reached like clawing hands trying to pull in unsuspecting travelers.  


He would be a fool to go that way. Finally submitting to his horse’s desires, they trotted off along the usual path to the fair.  
. . .  


Belle sighed, setting down her favorite book after finishing it for the – what was it? Fourth time? Fifth? She had lost track a while ago. Even now, she gazed at its blue cover, wanting to pick it up and dive right back in. But she held herself back, as a glance at the clock told her it was well past her usual dinnertime and she had forgotten to eat.  


While Belle prepared the eggs, she found herself recounting the plots of every single book in her town’s library. As she added the vegetables, she began wondering if it would be too forward of her to ask to borrow books from her neighbors, if they had any. In the midst of sprinkling on the spices, her mind had simply flown away from the town altogether, wishing to be somewhere things actually changed day by day, where even if there weren’t many adventures to be had, there could at least be books to read.  


She sat at the empty table and ate her omelet, coupling it with some wine from the cupboard. Her chewing seemed to echo through the house, the usual bangs, whistles, and sputters missing. She knew her father would return in about two days, and he had gone off to fairs in the past, but the wait had been especially strenuous on her this time due to…him.  


The second her father left, Gaston had barged into the house, got all in her face, and proposed to her in the most presumptuous way possible. He had even arranged a wedding before asking her! She had refused him, of course, and he seemed to be pretty embarrassed by the nature of the rejection, but apparently that wasn’t enough. He had come a second time two days ago, without the brass band and alter that time, and bragged about himself and all of his accomplishments. His thesis that time was simply that she should be flattered by his proposal, and she was silly not to accept him.  


With a glance out the window, Belle remembered bitterly how the morning after rejecting him the second time had gone for her. Every man, woman, and even child made it their duty to approach her while she was trying to read and insist that she marry Gaston. Claudette, Laurette, and Paulette (or “The Bimbettes” as the rest of town decided to call them) had riled at her for not accepting Gaston, saying if she didn’t, they would. When she had told them that that was fine by her, they almost began to cry, mourning how he would only take her because they weren’t pretty enough. Then, they had turned on Belle once more and blamed her for their predicament.  


She had stayed inside the house after that, and at the moment was trying to see how long she could continue to do that, when a knocking came at her door.  


Clinging to the improbable hope that the person on the other side of the door would be someone Belle would want to see, she opened it to face him once again.  


Gaston was wearing his signature red, a smirk spread across his face. He towered above her, forgetting personal space like always. His bulging muscles appeared flexed in an awkward attempt to show off, and a fire burned in his eyes.  


“Belle!” he declared, not waiting for her to speak this time. “You will marry me!”  


“No, I won’t!” She was done with any and all politeness at that point. She would have slammed the door on him, but he was already pushing his way into the house. “Leave my house!”  


He ignored her, taking large strides that forced her to scuttle backwards. She tried to push a chair in his way, but he simply tossed it aside, and she winced at the crash it made on the ground.  


“I deserve to have you.” Gaston’s hands formed fists. “You will be mine!”  


Belle felt her hip knock against the table, making her stumble and fall into the chair next to it. He grabbed the arms of the chair and leaned in to her. She turned her face away. His breath smelled like alcohol and meat, and his eyes scanned her like she was a deer he had just shot down.  
“You love your father, don’t you?” Her eyes widened. No, he wouldn’t.  


“Would be a shame if something were to…happen to him.” Gaston gave her a wicked grin. “Inventing can be dangerous. Fires start, gears lose control, things fall. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. When does he get back again? I’d love to see what he’s inventing next.”  


“Get out,” Belle growled between clenched teeth. She tucked her knees up to her chest.  


“What was that?” He egged her on.  


“I said, get out!”  


She kicked him square in the stomach, his vulnerable position making even him stumble back from the attack. Belle jumped up and grabbed the chair, ready to fight him off if necessary, but he only laughed.  


“Fine, I’ll leave.” He strutted across the room and paused in the doorway. “But I’ll see you again very soon. Tell your father I said hi.”  


Belle listened to his stomps fading down the path before she ran to the door and slammed it close. She slumped all of her weight against the door, gasping, her heart thumping against her chest. Once she could finally catch her breath, she ran to the chair that had been thrown across the room and shoved it under the door handle. As she looked at it, a picture of Gaston easily throwing the door open and breaking the chair flashed in her mind. She shuddered.  


A lock. She could make a lock. Opening the door a crack to be sure Gaston was really gone, she dashed out of the house and into the basement. Through the mess, she searched for parts either stowed away or left loose by her father. It took her a minute due to the disorganization of it all, but she found what she needed.  


Back in the house, and with the chair barring the door once again, she constructed a make-shift door bolt. She took her time attaching it, not wanting it to come off the wall too easily. Once it looked like the metal would hold longer than the chair, she pulled the chair away and finally allowed herself to breathe.  


For about a half hour, Belle lived in a blissful period of safety and decent comfort. She cleaned her dishes, swept the floor, and put away her book. Just as she slid the novel between the five other books she owned, she noticed that with nothing left to read, she would become bored fairly quickly. She would also need to feed the animals at some point. And there was only one egg left, she would need to get more soon.  
Either way, she’d have to go out into town eventually.  


That thought plagued her every action for the rest of the day. She purposely waited until the usual time at night when Gaston would be at the bar before she ran out to feed the animals, and even then she was shaking the whole time. Her night was restless, and she found herself rereading every book she owned just to get her mind onto something else, no matter how close she was to knowing each one by heart.  


The sound of the doorknob rattling made her jump the next morning. Belle was eating breakfast at the table and writing a few ideas that had come into her mind. She turned a wary eye to the door. It rattled once again, and her pencil slid across the paper. She grumbled to herself, but her mood quickly shifted when a voice called out to her.  


“Belle? I’m home!”  


A relieved smile lighting up her face, Belle leaped out of her seat and ran to the door, sliding the lock and swinging it open. Her father stood there, beaming even brighter than her. She looked past him to where the cart and Philipe stood at the bottom of the steps. The cart had lost at least a hundred pounds, and a huge blue ribbon was plastered on its side.  


“The fair, you won!” she exclaimed. Maurice laughed and they hugged each other. Belle helped him with the cart and horse as he recounted the story of the fair.  


“I almost lost to this one guy who had invented some wibbly wobbly thing he called a wristwatch, but his invention was way too heavy to wear so I won!”  


“I always knew you would,” Belle smiled. They took their discussion back into the house. When Belle got another look at the door bolt, her smile faded a little bit, but she fought to keep it while her father was still talking about his success.  


“I sold it to a rich buyer too!” he said. Belle snapped to attention.  


“We can finally leave this town!”  


“Yes, but…” Maurice said, his eyes looking around the house longingly. “Are you sure you want to leave? We’ve lived here our whole lives. I married your mother in this town.”  


“Mama is gone now.” Belle tried to keep herself from tearing up when she said that, but her eyes betrayed her, starting to cloud her vision. “And she always wanted to move out of this town anyway. There’s nothing for us here. No one understands us, it’s hard to find tools and parts for your inventions, and I’ve read everything in the library. Also…”  


For a moment, she considered telling her father about Gaston’s proposal and subsequent threat, but remembered who she was talking to. Maurice was one of the most trusting people she knew, and he had never really seen the darker sides to Gaston. Just before her father left he was suggesting that Gaston may be a nice companion for her. To top it off, he was a man, and although he was the kindest person she knew and best father she could hope for, he wouldn’t understand her fear in the same way.  


“Also…” Belle tried again. “What would we even do with more money around here? It’s not like we need a bigger house.”  


Maurice considered that. He put a hand to his chin and looked around the house once more. Then his eyes fell on a painting hung in the corner.  


“Alright, Belle.” She grinned as her father walked over to the painting. “You’re right. Moving is the best thing we can do. In fact…” He spun around with a slightly crazed grin on his face. “Let’s leave tomorrow!”  


Belle pretended to act a little baffled by the suddenness, but in truth, she had been hoping he would react that way. The sooner they left, the better, and the safer. Her father was just the type to make a rash decision like that, and she loved him for it.  


“Where are you thinking?” She joined him at the painting and looked upon the famous Notre Dame cathedral.  


“How about,” Maurice paused for effect, “Paris!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note about updates. I'm currently in college and doing a million things at once, so I will try to update weekly or biweekly but what's more I can't be sure. Just wanted to give forewarning.


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